


When It Alteration Finds

by goblynn



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-21 05:31:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1539470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goblynn/pseuds/goblynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Sleeping Beauty AU.</p><p>Just what it says on the tin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My thanks to hquinzelle for the kick in the pants in finding a title. :)

The spell struck her down the moment her teeth broke through the tender, golden flesh of Idunn’s apple. She had smiled, sweet juice glistening on her lips, her throat working to swallow—then her eyes widened, nostrils flaring, and the fruit slipped from her fingers. 

He remembered how it had bounced twice, rolling across the gleaming floor to stop by Odin’s boot. The All-Father had looked down at it, momentarily puzzled; the guests in the hall were frozen in confusion until Frigga’s gasp loosed a panic, their cries of dismay erupting at once. Thor lunged as she sank to the floor, his shouts ringing through the hall, his blunt fingers probing her mouth, in her throat—her body jerking as she tried to vomit the piece of fruit, and failing—how she had struggled and grasped at hands around her before her eyes fell shut and opened no more.  
  
He had been rooted to the spot, unable to speak or move. Odin’s bindings had been the only thing preventing all of Asgard from accusing _him_ of the crime. (He never once dreamed this captivity would spare him, but he was willing to accept his good fortune in this case.) He’d been able to do nothing to save his brother’s bride, left to watch in horror at the death of Jane Foster. 

~*~*~*~ 

She was _not_ dead. 

Loki kept to the shadows, watching every gesture and expression made by the healers as they examined her. His greatest concern lie with Frigga—her face lined with concern, hand clutching at Odin’s—and Thor. His once-brother was a shade of himself, unable to make things right and unable to punish those responsible. He radiated despair and rage, his emotions at war, his desire to stay and care for Jane in opposition to his need to go, to hunt down whomever had committed this sin. 

One of the healers waved a hand, and the images and lights shifting above Jane’s body vanished. Odin frowned. “Is there a viper in the gardens of Asgard? What has done this?” 

She looked to Odin and Thor in turn, her face impassive. “She sleeps.” 

Loki left them to their questioning.  
  
~*~*~*~ 

Asgard mourned. Jane was moved from the halls of healing to a wide, high chamber filled with light. She lay upon a golden bed draped in scarlet, her hands—wearing Thor’s rings—clasped across her belly. The people came, thronging the room, grieving for the prince’s bride, for the woman who gained immortality only to live it unawares, for the lost joys that had been awaited so long—a wedding, and, by the grace of the All-Father, heirs. Instead, the wedding day was spent in contemplation and weeping, with Thor alone at her bedside. 

Time passed, and the mourning lessened, until the crowds milling about for a chance to see the Lady Jane dwindled to the curious few. Anniversaries were still remembered—the day Thor asked her to be wedded to him, the dark day she was lost, even the day they were to be joined before the All-Father and the people—but the remembrances grew smaller, less compelling, as years turned. 

Decades later, it was announced that Sif would be joined to the eldest prince, and the halls of Asgard were filled with rejoicing. 

But Loki had not forgotten. 

~*~*~*~ 

He visited in the small, dark hours—when the guards no longer kept watch—years and Jane’s constancy making their presence seem unwarranted—and kept his own vigil. It had begun in curiosity—his need to puzzle out the problem, to tear it open and look into the heart of it, know its secret and its solution—and he had exhausted every method he had discovered in an effort to wake her. 

Spells, potions, magic-infused objects, relics from other realms; medicine from her world, incantations from mystics—all of it, he had tried. Pain, the scars from which she still bore, he’d inflicted upon her without mercy, yet she slept on as though untouched. He allowed himself to attempt pleasure once, and ended the experiment after tasting only the skin of her throat, her heartbeat a strong, steady rhythm against his tongue. 

~*~*~*~ 

The wedding was over, but the feasts would continue long into the night. From her room, Loki could see the scattered fires burning in the city below, hear the distant cacophony of revelers and the low tones of horns. All of Asgard was celebrating Thor and Sif, yet he was here, in a mausoleum for the living, the perfect remains of a once-perfect love lying in state. 

Loki sat, careful to leave her coverings undisturbed, and sought—as he ever did—any changes. Her hair shone in the firelight, dark lashes curled above fair cheeks, her rosy lips were smooth and dry. He touched her hands, finding them cool and soft. Her flesh was smooth and pliant, blue veins criss-crossing above the fine bones. 

Gently, he slid Thor’s betrothal rings from her fingers, setting them aside on the coverlet, and twined their hands together. He held them in this way into the deep night, as the sounds of merriment faded into occasional cheers, then into silence. He continued at her side as the first golden shafts of light pierced the sky, and a single horn sounded.  
  
He looked down at her. “Thor and Sif are now husband and wife in every way. He will never come for you, Jane.” Standing, he pulled his hands free of hers, resting them again at her waist. “I am sorry.” Impulsively, he leaned close, pressing his lips to hers in a long, chaste kiss. He turned aside, cheek to hers, and whispered. “I would not have forgotten you so easily.” With a kiss to the corner of her mouth, he straightened and walked out of the room. 

~*~*~*~ 

Thor’s forsaken rings fell, pinging brightly against the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

Loki woke to shouts in the corridor and calls from the guards outside his chamber. He dressed quickly, falling into step behind them as they led him to Frigga’s private rooms. 

The woman he called mother met him in the hall. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears, her hands shaking as she reached out for him. Fear rippled through his body—fear for Thor, for Asgard, even for Odin—until she smiled and gripped his hands in hers.  
  
“Come, Loki—I must show you, as even I cannot believe it.” She led him through the doorway, dropping his hands and rushing across the room. He moved to follow her, but stopped abruptly. 

_Jane_. 

She was by the window, reclining on a veritable mountain of cushions. Frigga brushed back her hair, and her eyelids slowly opened. 

The queen spoke gently. “Someone is here to see you.” 

Jane followed Frigga’s gaze. Loki could plainly see the disappointment and confusion in her eyes when she did not find Thor waiting there. Her whispered words confirmed it. “Where’s Thor?” 

Frigga sat down beside her, taking Jane’s hand. “He is here, but I have not called him to you for a reason. There is much you should know, and I fear it will cause you pain.” 

Jane tried to push herself upright. “What? I don’t understand.”  
  
Loki stepped forward. “What do you remember?” 

Jane looked at him strangely, her brown eyes narrowed. “I…I’m not sure.” She shook her head. “It’s—I feel so weird. Everything’s so...fuzzy.” 

He came to her side, crouching by her seat. “Do you remember the apple?” 

She looked away, silent for a long moment. Her thoughts were plain on her face—the furrowed brow giving way to realization, her mouth parting in a little “oh” before she looked to them both. “Yes—I couldn’t…I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t—” She reached to her throat. “Oh, god…what happened to me?” 

“You have been asleep, Jane.” Loki ignored Frigga’s glare. “For a very long time.”  
  
Jane frowned. “How long?” She looked at Frigga, and the older woman’s face was lined with tears. Rising panic filled her. “How long?!” 

He looked to his mother, and their eyes met. She searched his gaze, hesitant, then rose, leaving the room. He waited until her footfalls faded from hearing, then turned again to Jane.  
  
“Long enough for those known to you on Midgard to pass from life. Long enough for the place promised to you in Asgard to be filled by another.” 

She didn’t move. Her eyes fell, her lip trembled, but she did not move. 

He leaned close, voice soft. “Jane—he mourned you. _Asgard_ mourned you. It was not hastily done.” 

Jane pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, fighting against tears. She doubled over, drawing ragged breaths, a stuttered keening tearing from her throat. 

Frigga and her handmaidens rushed into the room, the queen gathering Jane into her arms, dismissing her son with a sad look. As Loki departed, he found Odin and Thor waiting in the hall. 

His face was carefully blank when he spoke. “Impeccable timing, brother.” 

Thor grabbed his arm, voice low. “How has this happened? What has woken her after all this time?”  
  
Loki went still, his thoughts churning. He cast a glance at Odin, only to find he had turned his back to them. He sensed, however, that the All-Father was not ignorant of their words. He turned his attention back to his brother. 

“I do not know.” 

Thor’s face was pained. “Is she—” 

“Unhappy? Dismayed? Utterly crushed?” Loki’s face twisted in anger. “Oh, yes, brother. All that and more. Do you not hear?” Through the open door, Jane’s sobbing was unmistakable. “She has lost _all_ —” 

“ _Enough_.” Odin turned on his heel, silencing them. He eyed his eldest son. “Thor—go to Sif. _She_ is your wife.” 

Loki stepped aside, watching his brother storm away. “He is displeased.”  
  
Odin grunted. “He is foolish.” 

Loki turned, surprised. “Thor?” 

Odin did not look at him. “Yes. He cannot allow long-buried feelings to overrule his head. He is newly married to the Lady Sif, and it shall not be undone.” 

“What of Jane?” 

At this, the All-Father met his eyes. “Jane Foster has partaken of Idunn’s apple…her place is in Asgard. She will find a position in our world, as all others do.” 

“She does not _know_ our world!” 

“Then she must be led!” 

“Thor—” 

Odin’s face darkened. “Thor is forbidden to her.” 

“Then there is no one to give her aid.” 

Odin gave him a long look. “Of all in Asgard, it is you, Loki, who shares kinship with her. Though you were not born of this realm, you are both of it—and shall ever remain so.” 

Loki moved to speak, but Frigga’s appearance in the doorway ended their conversation, and Odin followed her into the room.


	3. Chapter 3

Jane’s new life was a solitary one. Heartbroken and directionless, she avoided all contact with Thor—eating alone, tucking herself away in her rooms or visiting parts of the palace that held little of interest to him. It was this predilection that Loki encouraged, in his own way, by safeguarding her.  
  
He made certain to ensure she was unaware of his presence—on more than one occasion, he took on the appearance of a guard, waiting outside whichever room in which she secluded herself; or shifted into the guise of a servant, taking away the remnants of her meal and judging, for himself, whether she was sufficiently nourished. He intended to not interfere directly with her, only to observe. 

Then she had been at market, perusing some trinket or another, and a sudden welling of sound drew her attention. He caught sight of Thor and Sif among the crowd, and, looking to Jane, saw the hurt and urge to flee. She tried to hide herself among the people, but it had done no good—the shining blue of her clothing stood out as brightly as any beacon. 

He stepped out of the shadows, sliding one arm around her waist and enfolding her in his glamour. As Thor and Sif passed them by, they saw only a middle-aged man and his golden-haired wife, as common a sight as any in Asgard. 

She jerked free when they were safely out of hearing, turning on the man that had grabbed her. Loki dropped his disguise before she could strike him, backing off with his hands out in entreaty.  
  
“Loki?” She faltered. “Why—what are you doing here?” 

He lowered his arms. “Protecting you.” 

Jane straightened, holding herself proudly. “I don’t need your help, Loki. No one’s trying to hurt me.” 

“Then I shall leave you and return to the palace. Do give my brother and Sif my regards when they pass this way, again.” He gave a short nod and started off through the crowd. 

“Loki—wait!” Her voice carried over the din, but he didn’t stop. A moment later, she was at his side, brushing at her skirts and looking at him askance. “I guess I _should_ say thank you. I can’t imagine how bad running into them out here would be.” 

“You cannot hide forever, Jane. There will come a day when you must face Thor—and Sif.” 

She tugged at the wrap covering her shoulders, stalling. “I’m not ready for that, yet.” 

He looked down at her, pausing as he allowed her to pass in front of him around a cart. “You yet love him.” 

“Of course.” Jane looked at him oddly. “You think I’m going to steal him back.” Stopping completely, she gave a little snort of derision. “Get one thing straight, buster, I’m not that kind of girl. I—” 

He grabbed her arm and steered her into a gap between two buildings, out of the sun and out of sight. A few yards in, he spun her to face him. 

“Don’t be a fool.” 

Jane tugged her arm out of his grasp. “I’m _not_.” 

They stared each other down, until Loki turned with a sneer and walked away, further from the market. 

“Loki!” She darted after him, clutching at his sleeve and pulling hard. He drew up short, causing her to nearly collide with him before twisting her body away and stumbling. He grabbed at her, again, catching her by the hand. She jerked to a stop.  
  
“Ow.” 

He steadied her, hands ghosting over her arm. “Are you hurt?” 

She rolled her shoulder, wincing. “It feels like I pulled something.” 

“I’ll take you to the healers.” He turned to lead her back the way they had come. 

“Loki, please.” She waited for him to turn around and look at her. “Thank you.” 

“Your gratitude is unnecessary, Jane. It is not I that will heal you.” 

She frowned. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“What then, pray tell, did you mean?” 

“You helped me hide from them. I don’t know why you did it, but…thank you.” 

He shrugged. 

“—Why are you being nice?” 

The question caught him off-guard. “Nice?” 

Jane approached him. “Look—the last time you and I really talked, you were in shackles. Odin didn’t trust you as far as he could throw you, and everyone thought you were going to try taking over the world, again. And now…now you’re walking around like nothing ever happened. It doesn’t make sense.” 

He licked his lips. “I paid my penance.” 

“How?” 

He blinked slowly, a grim smile spreading over his face. “It involved a serpent and a great deal of pain—I’d rather not discuss it further.” 

She blanched. 

“I must leave you now, Jane Foster.” He slid his hands together, producing a bright green, marble-like stone. “This will lead you to the halls of healing.” He knelt, placing it on the ground at her feet. 

Jane looked down at him, at the dark head bent so low, and felt a sudden warmth bloom in her chest. She wrapped her arms around herself, twisting her fingers in the fabric of her bodice, and watched him stand. He was tall and lean, pale and shadowed, and she wondered briefly how anyone could ever have thought him to be Thor’s true brother. They were as different as night and day. 

“Goodbye, Jane.” His eyes didn’t meet hers as he wished her well, and he left her there, moving unhurriedly back into the crowded market. 

~*~*~*~ 

The stone rolled ahead of her, bouncing over cobbles and cracks and around corners, dodging feet and hooves like a living thing. She followed it without thought, lifting her eyes from its progress only when it stopped, and found herself in a wide courtyard. At the top of the low stairs ahead of her, she saw the wide, arched entrances where the healers waited.   

She smiled, then reached down and picked up the stone, holding it tightly as she went inside.

She toyed with it as she was examined, blushing under the stern gaze of the healer who requested she remain still. 

She carried it with her back to her rooms, rolling it from hand to hand as she sat by the window with a stack of books and paper. 

She sat it beside her cup while she ate, staring at its opaline surface, almost expecting it to do something. 

And when she slept, it slipped from her slackened fingers, rolled into the soft hollow by her neck, and did not move again.


End file.
